


Parting

by kukoriri (xuukinishi)



Series: Would That I Could Wake [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Gen, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-30
Updated: 2018-08-30
Packaged: 2019-07-04 15:53:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15844533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xuukinishi/pseuds/kukoriri
Summary: Ohri encounters a friend turned foe and must make a choice to protect her child.





	Parting

**Author's Note:**

> I. Though as sorrowful a [Parting] as any other  
> II. I find the best part of [Sleeping]  
> III. is [Waking] beside you.

“Lambard...what are you saying?” The nursing woman blinked repeatedly as confusion brought a nervous smile to her face. As if sensing her discomfort, her child ceased feeding and sleepily closed its eyes, one small hand grasping the fabric of her top.

The blond man smiled, idly toying with the point of his rapier before lifting his eyes to meet the young woman. “They are dead, Ohri.”

What Ohri first thought to be a friendly house call bearing news of the Resistance's efforts in her absence was no such thing at all. She was suddenly much more aware of the weapon in her colleague's hands, and that much more concerned about the location of her own.

Only minutes ago, she had heard the rhythmic knocking on the safe house door, letting her know her guest was a supposed to be friend. The coded rapping on the wooden surface was a necessity borne out of the war Ohri had wholeheartedly thrown herself into a few years prior alongside her best friends and romantic partner. Eventually she found herself among an order of talented spellcasters who trained both body and mind, and in the heat of battle forged bonds deep and unbreakable. And yet, here, one of her closest companions was saying:

“You _killed_ them?!”

“An unfortunate side effect of my latest endeavor,” He said with a shrug, following up with a deep frown. “I fail to see how this is what you are finding excitable. You realize it, do you not? _Nightkin,_ as we expected, is not fictional in any way. It is an autobiography holding secrets to a power greater than we've ever wielded ourselves!”

Lambard gestured grandly, pointing the blade in his right hand down and out, and bringing his left to rest over his heart.

“Fate has generously seen to it that I be blessed with the gift to take full advantage of the research in its pages, and now, I would like to offer you the same-such thing. Think, how many years have we given ourselves to this cause of ours? A pointless war not a one of us could win, wretchedly slow progress in developing our arcane arts, and being bound to a flesh that will only see itself turn to dust before any real potential can be realized— it's ludicrous to stay chained to such things with this opportunity available.”

He shook his head looking down before bringing his eyes back up to meet her own.

“The blood we shed and have shed ourselves is much better spent upon on self-servicing enhancements, where it shan't go to waste. You are the only other one of our order to have shared in the hunger for the buried knowledge of those who began our art, and as such you are the only one to receive this honor. Rejoice, join me, and you too can find yourself allied with my generous new sponsors.”

He stepped forward and reached out his left hand with a grin. “And once we've grown strong enough, once we have enough influence, we can destroy them and anyone else in the way of our power like you've wanted to all this time. You need only let go of some of your earthly attachments, and your hands will be free to reach the treasures of the other realm.”

His eyes flickered to the child in her hands, and her body tensed. Ohri's back curved as she bent over it protectively and bared her fangs.

“I will _not_. Don’t you understand what we've built? What you’ve _undone?_ Why we've fought? Don’t you remember why we looked for strength in the first place?”

Lambard rolled his eyes, looking annoyed.

“I can recall a particular Miqo'te who only last week excitedly discussed the methods my ancestor must have used to gain the understanding he did. Why keep up this pretense? Your desire is as strong as mine.”

“I don't deny my enjoyment of it. Things I never dreamed could be possible were penned in those pages, and I loved learning of them. But we don’t study the past to repeat it!”

She backed away, not taking her eyes off of him and gently placed her child in a wooden basket filled with soft, cushioned fabric. She spared an affectionate glance at them, gently stroking their hair once before narrowing her eyes at the no-longer-welcome guest.

“And what, pray tell, should we do with the knowledge? Allow it to go to waste? Fickle and fanciful as you've oft shown yourself to be even you should see the folly in that.”

“It's not wasted! You build on it, you find its faults and improve on them, you let it remind you of things that are important... It's the very basis of our craft! Taking the destructive power of the White and the Black, using ourselves to bring it into harmony and protect the people around us. You were with us when we decided this would be our path! So how have you come to think there's any value in something that requires the suffering of others?!”

Ohri's eyes moistened with unshed tears both for her deceased companions and the one before her, knowing that a fight wasn't far off if her friend couldn't be convinced that what he had done was wrong.

Lambard only grimaced.

“I grow tired of this distasteful display. It appears you aren't the person I thought you to be.”

His sigh was her only warning before he flung himself towards her. Though she could have dodged, she didn't risk it with her baby behind her. Instead, she held his blade a fulm away from her. Her hands were bleeding all over it, but she gritted her teeth pushed the rapier up violently, and kicked him as hard as she could in his stomach, knocking him against a distant table. The look of amusement he had from watching her catch the blade faded into wide-eyed pain. While he was down, she looked left to right, trying to find the location she last placed her blade after polishing it. She didn't have long before a Verstone hit her in the chest. Though the pain was great she held her ground managing to only slide back a few ilms. She heaved out the last of the air in her chest and tried to take some back in, voice temporarily leaving her. Though he obviously bore her ill intent, a part of her still held on to hope for a resolution that left them both alive taking note of the fact that he didn't immediately go for the killing blow. That hope soon drained away along with the warmth in her body.

Feeling as though she was being dipped into an icy stream, a cold, jarring feeling creeped it's way in through her fingers and toes, stretching up her limbs. It was like the warmth in her body was retreating, trying to wrap itself protectively around her now burning core. But despite its efforts, a cool grip settled over her heart and she lost the strength to stand. The Verstone may not have been meant to kill her, but it did leave her disoriented enough to be taken by surprise. At first weakly watching a faint mist leave her palms, she struggled to lift up her head to look at him.

“W—ha-- is....”

Shaking blond locks newly turned red, his eyes gleamed at her with a mania she'd never seen twist his features.

“I fear I'll never grow tired of this taste. I'll need to pace myself with my meals in the future lest I become insatiable.”

Rather than answer her directly, he took a vial out of a concealed pocket within his jacket. He squatted down to set it on the ground before her, raising a hand up to his face to hold his chin. His grin relaxed into a smile and he tilted his head.

“It _is_ a pity. You...X'ruhn...we could have shared in something wonderful. Just one sip and you'd have doubled in power. Tell me... do you still think this was the right choice, now that you have none?”

Ohri coughed wetly, trying to reply, but the words wouldn't come. All she could manage was a weak glare. Lambard’s free hand tapped the top of the vial and his smile fell from his face leaving blank eyes and a frown.

“A pity.”

He drew himself up leisurely and turned on his heels. Walking to the door he made his parting words.

“The Garleans have been informed of the location of this safehouse, so it is unlikely they are far off. Enjoy your goodbyes.”

He shut the door without looking back, leaving the only sounds in the room Ohri's occasional breaths and the garbled not-quite-speech of her child, who had been roused into alertness by the commotion.

Ohri could feel her consciousness fading. The Garleans might not even have their chance to kill her, she thought with a morbid sense of amusement.

“Ma...nya…”

But the kitten..!

The eyes she hadn't realized she closed shot open. If they got there they would find her son, and if they decided to not kill them, the Garleans might take them in to be raised for their army, the unfortunate fate many Ala Mhigan youth had suffered. Her partner, K’hri, might never see their child, and might even face them in battle one day. Her home also had countless documents relating to the Resistance, and should they fall into Garlean hands...

Her heart hurt more than her body at the thought, and she tried again to move. She had to protect them.

It took everything in her to crawl forward a mere ilm, making the door seem malms off. She didn't know how she would fight off whoever was coming, but she had to try anything. Ohri pushed herself forward, beads of sweat rolling off her still strangely chilled body. Her breathing labored further and her arms slipped under her, giving out. Her vision was growing darker around the edges, and she couldn't take her eyes off the door. She let her gaze slip down and the corner of her mouth twitched upwards when she noticed her rapier just to the right of it. _Too Late._

The pain from putting all of her weight on her arms caused her to shift them away from her body, and her left one brushed against glass.

“v...al...?

The vial. Only bits and pieces of Lambard's words were still with her, but he'd been touching the vial when he mentioned taking a sip... If what she had gathered Lambard wanted her to do to gain similar power was correct, and if all she remembered from _Nightkin_ was right, it was likely there was aether-addled voidsent blood contained within. If she drank it...

There were risks. Many red mages had tried to take in the power of the void and ended up losing themselves. They died, or became consumed by a hunger for aether so great their peers had to put them down before they destroyed the earth and people around theirselves. She also lacked the preparation necessary to help her keep her form as it was, so there was no telling what would happen to her body as the energies within it surged. Her baby gurgled out a few more words that faded into soft snores and her hand closed tightly around the glass container. It didn't matter. If she didn't do it, she would die here, and if she died her child's fate would most likely be a negative one, if they survived at all. Her mate would never know the fate of either of them, and Lambard would be free to take many more lives.

She carefully rolled onto her back, wincing at the pain. Using the thumb of the hand grasping the vial, she flicked off the top and brought it to her lips. Ohri tilted it in her mouth, feeling like she was drowning before her body listened to her and worked the foul-tasting liquid down.

For a few moments, she felt nothing. And then, she burned.

Her already bloodied hand clenched the vial so tightly it broke into shards that stung into her skin. However, she felt none of that, mind occupied by a pain far more intense.

Ohri's eyes widened and strained, wheeling around wildly in their sockets, not quite able to take in anything they were seeing. The sweat that had gathered on her body steamed away, was replaced by more, and steamed off again over and over.

Her consciousness comprehended nothing but the pain and her thoughts eventually lost their coherency. Her vision went dark, and when it returned the world was different. The colors around her appeared washed out, with the only point of brightness punctuating the otherwise dull expanse being the smoky shape around the basket on the table in front of her. She didn't recall when she'd stood up or why she had been on the floor to begin with, but the bright, dancing blue hue compelled her to reach out. It reacted to her, reaching out and gently wrapping around the soft violet she hadn't noticed around her own hand. The basket made a sound and moved, and she stepped back, confused.

Above and eventually behind her, the thump-thump-thump of multitudinous footsteps had her on her guard. She stepped cautiously, turned around, and her gaze met a shaking door.

Ohri’s eyes narrowed and her ears flattened straight back. As disoriented as she was she knew something other than the growing empty feeling inside her was wrong here.

Even with the entrance closed and a wall between her and the intruders, she could still somehow smell and see a mist similar to the one coming off the basket from every tense shape on the other side of the door that separated this space from the mountainous cave.

Each new scent was (delicious) strange and had her furrowing her brows. She wanted to (eat) step back and figure out why they were there, why _she_ was (so ｈｕｎｇｒｙ) there.

Shouts rang out as the figures signaled their comrades and they began attempting to break down the door. Every shake of the wall had the scents drifting closer and Ohri’s pupils dilated.

She snapped her head around when the (sweet-scented, good, treasured) shape in the basket began to whimper and yowl at the noise. For a moment she was torn between comforting it, consuming it, and confronting the source of the distress. Her choice was made when the pounding stopped, replaced by two short gunshots. With the hole they'd made, they began to pry open the door and she faced them. She stretched out arms that seemed heavier, and lowered herself into a crouch. When they'd finally loosened it enough to push open, she pounced.

The unfortunate first to enter met her teeth and claws, their gun clattering to the floor as they tried to pry her off their face. Her grip was tight though, and there was little they could do as she cracked open their armor, shredded through flesh, and drank up the mist that oozed from their wounds.

The other seven soldiers had paused in horror at the sight. Her display of strength was brutal and though they knew not what it was, they could see something unnatural was happening to their no longer moving colleague. They stared at her as any damage she sustained healed before their eyes and watched her wild-eyed form step over the fallen soldier and towards them.

Ohri was in ecstasy. Finally finally finally the empty feeling was pushed away. But now that she'd whet her appetite she felt compelled to gorge herself on the feast before her. Her thoughts had reduced themselves to _subdue_ and _devour_ , and she was more than glad to give in if it meant she'd get to sample that taste again.

A bullet hit her arm and she hardly minded it at all, her flesh already mending and changing where the wound had been. The energy she’d consumed was beginning to fade away with every passing second and each bit of marred flesh it had to give itself to fix. Still, she instinctively changed tactics, and crumpled to the ground. There she stayed there a few moments, holding her breath and twitching for effect. When two came to inspect her she surprised them and took them down too. This time conserving her energy by making significantly fewer but larger wounds and immediately drinking in the fruit of her efforts.

Using the boost in power it gave she quickly finished off the others, not letting the two who'd chosen to retreat get very far before she caught up with them. With her appetite temporarily abated, she backed against a wall as a bit of clarity returned to her thoughts.

“Nohht.. Rrite...”

Something was very wrong with her now. She didn't recognize the voice that had left her mouth. Her body felt different: harder, heavier, and narrowed in places it hadn't been before. The way her vision had mostly dulled to anything that wasn't what she now assumed to have been strong sources of aether remained the same as well. Ohri wished she didn't remember it, but the way she had fought wasn't like her at all. The blood she'd drunk of was potent, and she wondered if it'd been Lambard's own. Diluted as Lilith's cursed essence was within it, she was still among the strongest of known voidkin. She didn't doubt its power to corrupt even like this.

Already she could feel herself slipping away again and she closed her eyes. A pounding headache settled in her temples— the result of pushing to suppress the hunger before it completely eroded her will. How did Lambard endure it so...

She opened one eye slowly and then the other. Now that a silence had fallen again, her child had ceased their whimpers and cries and fallen asleep once more. She was surprised at their calm, and a little worried. Though she wanted to approach them right now, she had to move quickly while she still had the benefit of lucidity.

She took several candles already lit around the room and tossed them onto tall stacks of paper and bookshelves. Ohri intended to set the safe house completely ablaze to destroy the documents within so when the Garleans came looking for their missing squadron, they found nothing but ash near their remains.

When she felt she'd given the flames enough of a start, she grabbed her satchel, cloak, and rapier and hurriedly secured them to her body. Then, she gently lifted her baby, basket and all, and moved out as quickly as she could without waking the child.

It was fortunate she decided early on to live away from other family members of the Resistance. Ohri had wanted a space to keep up with training in her spellcasting and bladework, and to be able to receive more frequent visits from her mate and her comrades. It made the choice in safehouse a little more remote and difficult to get supplies to, but in her current state she was a danger to anything that drew breath.

It took some hours to climb down the mountain through its maze-like caves, but they made it out unscathed and untroubled. The beasts that roamed it seemed fearful of her, creeping or dashing away whenever she came too close. Ohri gave the thought a pained smile. She could see the obvious changes in her arms; could still feel the thrum of power beneath the surface of her skin promising there would be more later. She wondered if it showed in her face, or if they could somehow scent the dramatic shift in her aether.

Her baby had woken up briefly, reaching up to her in a gesture for food. She worried, though, about what it might do to if she fed them naturally. Instead, she took out a container filled with sweet-water from her satchel, hoping it would soothe them while she made the journey to the closest village. For herself, she drank one of the two ethers she kept in there for emergencies, and was glad when it seemed to calm her down as well, if only temporarily.

She exited the caves to meet the expanse of the Sagolii Desert, just south of Paglth'an, the territory of the Amal'jaa. It had been some time since she had made this journey herself, but if she remembered rightly, far to the west were the home and hunting lands of the U Tribe. She and her mate had promised to meet there should anything happen

It was fortunate that the sun was slipping beneath the horizon, as the long journey would have been nearly unbearable with their limited supplies beneath the gaze of the desert sun. Although she didn't need the protection from the sun, she still wrapped her cloak around herself more securely and lowered her hood. She hoped to run into a caravan to speed their journey along and didn't wish to frighten help off with her appearance. She didn't think they'd last much longer on their own.

—

They had been in luck. The usual hunting party of the U tribe had extended their reach a bit further than usual. Word of Garlean activity at the Bay of Dha'yuz had their scouts checking things out to be safe. Ohri confirmed that she had seen them in the Southeast, and run, worried for her child. She added that her face had been disfigured and voice damaged in an encounter with them some weeks ago so she wished to keep her cloak on. The huntresses snarled sympathetically.

“Filth and vermin... You will be well kept with the U.”

A longer-haired one nodded and raised her bow in the air. “They can bring any toy they want to battle, but should they challenge the U they will quickly learn what the inside of a sandworm is like.”

The others raised their weapons in agreement before returning to their mounts. The first to speak—U'khebbe—was the only one with a chocobo, and thankfully one large enough for two riders. She motioned for Ohri to sit on the back of her own mount. The bird itself was reluctant, but with the firm hand of its rider sitting unmoving from its neck it steadied enough for Ohri to climb on.

In only a few hours’ time they had made it to Forgotten Springs. Upon dismounting, they led her to a solitary building and asked her to wait for refreshments. She nodded, reminded of the gnawing hunger she had tried to push to the back of her mind, and set the basket she carried on the table. She placed her satchel next to it, sorting the contents. In it was a modest sum of gil, a ring, a kit for mending clothes, and her final ether.

She downed the ether first, then removed some thread from the kit. She threaded it through the ring as a makeshift necklace and gently placed it around her sleeping child’s neck. She brushed their cheek gently and kissed the spot she touched before backing away.

Moved as she was by the hospitality of the tribe, their meal wouldn't sate her hunger. She had to leave before she lost herself, and she had to find Lambard to rid herself of this curse. She hoped the gil would be enough for giving her transport and her child shelter for however long it took her mate to discover the safehouse was gone. She trusted that he would find his way to their child.

It hurt that she could not utter her son's name now that they were to part, but the feeling only added to her growing fury with Lambard. Even if she lost herself she would find him and put an end to this. And maybe, should Azeyma's blessing prove strong, she would see her son and mate once more. She leaned in towards the basket one last time.

“Ssleep, llittlle one. Good night.”

And with that, she left; walking deep into the desert, determined to get as far as she could before the hunger took her again.

 


End file.
